


Sticks and Stones

by Splivy



Series: Dawn of Gold [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loki is a mess, M/M, Nightmares, infinity war fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splivy/pseuds/Splivy
Summary: Loki is now healed and walking up and about. Loki and Steve are somehow roommates now, and Steve is figuring it out. Loki is struggling a little more.
Relationships: Loki/Steve Rogers
Series: Dawn of Gold [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1519100
Comments: 14
Kudos: 116





	Sticks and Stones

Things were certainly calmer and less complex since Loki was at least able to hold his own head up without Steve’s aid. Loki didn’t seem to be as skittish or nervous around the man since he had first awoken. He was healing pretty well, or as well as you can after having your throat crushed and... die. Steve tried not to think about, and he was sure Loki tried not to think about it as well. 

It was calm, surely.

But things were not okay.

Loki, although mostly healed, was still much too thin with his clothes hanging off of him as if they were absorbing him. He had dark circles around his eyes that made his already pallor skin somehow look paler. It was true that Loki wasn’t as jumpy or nervous around Steve as he was, but he definitely still flinched at small movements or sounds that had Steve’s heart wrenching in his chest. 

Loki didn’t sleep much, but when he did he usually woke with a cry or a downright scream tearing at his vocal chords that had Steve jerking awake in alarm from his own bedroom. Steve wasn’t stupid. He knew what Loki was dreaming about. 

_ He took my brother and crushed his neck. _

Steve winced at remembrance of Thor’s words. Sometimes he caught Loki’s hand lingering near his throat, where most of the bruises were gone, as if unsure he was still here. Still alive. 

He couldn’t blame the god. Steve had never died, and usually the general rule is that you don’t come back when you die. Loki, for whatever reason, was somehow excluded from this rule. Steve may have been frozen and asleep for seventy years, but he never died. 

Loki, along with his inability to catch a good nights rest, didn’t eat much. Steve made him soft foods that he thought would be easier for the Asgardian to slip down his still tender throat, but Loki would sometimes take two or three bites (or no bites) before sliding the plate away. Steve would frown and try to convince to have some more, “it’ll help you heal faster” he would say, but Loki would just shake his head. 

It was still a mystery how Loki was even alive, and Steve understood that did not in any way sit well with the god. It didn’t sit well with Steve either. But what is a guy supposed to do?

He still thought they should call Thor, but even after a week since Loki’s return, the Asgardian still refused to share the news with his brother. Steve wasn’t sure why, but he knew Loki had his reasons. Maybe he would even tell Steve, when he was ready.

For right now, the pair just awkwardly attempted to ignore the fact that they were somehow roommates now and didn’t have a clue what to do next. 

Steve, from the kitchen, glanced over at Loki through the window. The god was seated outside on a lounge chair and was watching the waves crash against the shore. Steve couldn’t see his face, only the back of his head, but he was used to the god’s dull eyes staring at nothing. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, tighter around his throat. Steve could understand why. 

He was tempted to go ask if he wanted something to eat or drink but the most likely answer would be no. He wondered if he should just go out there and sit with him, but in the end decided to stand there and watch him stupidly from the kitchen. 

He couldn’t help but worry about Loki. He was too quiet and secluded, and Steve was sure he knew what was going on in his head. Or at least, he could suspect he knew what was going on in his head. 

It just seemed so surreal. Loki was supposed to be ‘the bad guy’ in this scenario, but from what Thor had told the team after everything went to hell, Loki was a supposed hero of Asgard. A savior who came back with a ship to evacuate the last survivors of Hela’s rule, and then gave his life to save Thor’s from Thanos. 

Or at least, that was supposed to be what had happened. But now Loki was here in the flesh (much too sickly looking flesh, Steve thought) and he doesn’t even know how, or remember anything after his death except his coming here. 

After a moment of watching Loki, he finally saw the still form shift in the seat and stand to his feet. He stumbled, Steve noticed, but got his bearings. He watched the god move closer to the wooden barrier on the balcony and lean against it, his blanket still tightly wrapped around him. 

Steve broke and decided to join him.

Loki didn’t react when Steve stepped foot outside, nor did he make any sign of awareness when Steve leaned against the wooden railing by him. He examined Loki for a moment, how his pale skin seemed to shine under the moon’s light, something like thoughtfulness on his face. 

“What’s on your mind?” Steve tried for a casual tone, but it sounded tight to his ears. 

It seemed like it took a moment for Loki to realize he was there, but when he did he jarred out of his thoughts. He blinked, but didn’t turn to look at the captain. “Nothing particularly interesting.” 

Loki’s voice was still too rough in his throat, the sound akin to rock grinding against cement. Steve winced. “Is that why you’re staring at the waves deep in thought?”

Loki swallowed, blinking some more. The slight breeze in the air was blowing a few stray strands of Loki’s hair near the side of his face. Steve thought he saw that the god wanted to say something, but couldn’t get it out.

“Are you okay,” he asked. 

Loki nodded, but it was stiff on his neck. “I’m alive and well aren’t I?”

That statement should be an elated proclamation, something to be grateful for, but instead it sounded dull in Loki’s voice. Steve would be angry about it in any other situation. Especially after watching his best friend dissolve away into dust. However, in this case he doesn’t think he can. Instead, it felt like his heart plummeted somewhere deep in his stomach with sorrowing sympathy. 

“Are you,” he asked, and wondered immediately after if that was a mistake.

Loki didn’t seem offended though. His brows met together in confusion when he finally turned his head to look at Steve. “Am I what?”

“Are you well?”

Loki looked down at the wood, something thoughtful on his face. Steve could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to think of a way to steer away from this conversation. After a moment, he sighed. “Perhaps not,” he said. “But I like to think I will be.”

That was good, at least. 

Steve decided to take a leap. “Maybe you should think about contacting Thor.”

Immediately, the god started shaking his head. “No,” he croaked. “Not... yet.”

Steve tilted his head. “Can I ask why?”

He could see Loki bite the inside of his cheek, his brows furrowing further and further. Steve wanted to do something, to reassure him that everything was fine, he didn’t have anything to fear from Thor. But maybe that wasn’t true. 

“It’s... complicated,” is what Loki went with. 

“In what way?”

Loki sighed, his eyes shining with resignation. He added moisture to his lips before speaking. “It is... I do not want...” he released a frustrated breath, shaking his head. Steve waited, watching what Steve thought could maybe be tears swelling in the god’s green eyes. Perhaps it was just the light, because he didn’t see any fall, but Steve didn’t think so. When Loki was finally able to get his words out, they were spoken slowly with caution. “I do not want Thor to be disappointed.”

That struck Steve directly in the heart. As if someone took a blade and stabbed him directly through. He felt his lips part slightly in surprise, blinking a little stupidly at the Asgardian. “Wh- What do you mean?”

Steve noticed that Loki seemed to be controlling his breathing perhaps a little too much, his lips pursed together in a tight line. He saw one of the hands clenching the blanket around him move up to his throat behind the fabric. “It’s... I am not what Thor wants me to be.”

Steve frowned. “I don’t understand,” he said. “What do you-“

“Thor would undoubtedly want the brother he had on the Statesman back,” Loki interrupted, but he heard his voice crack. “He would want the newly declared prince who was aiding in the rehabilitation of Asgard. He would want the brother who finally embraced him after Hela destroyed half the population of the Aesir. And I’m not. I’m not who he wants me to be. I’m not  _ whole _ .”

When Loki was done he was breathing a little too hard for Steve’s comfort, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he swallowed the giant lump in his throat and opened his mouth to speak. “Loki...” he faltered for a moment. “I don’t think Thor would...  _ want  _ anything in particular. I think he would just be relieved to see you. Or at least know that you’re alive.”

Loki didn’t look convinced, but says, “perhaps” in a voice that sounds a little too dull and too slow. 

Steve wanted to keep going in this line of conversation. Tell him how devastated Thor was when the war was over and they lost and he explained Asgard’s ruination and Loki’s death. He wanted to tell him that Thor had cried, almost  _ sobbed  _ the first night at Avenger’s Compound after Thanos’ victory. That Thor  _ loved  _ Loki, even after the betrayal and the hardships and the mischief. 

But he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure Loki would appreciate that, especially now in his vulnerable state. 

“Captain,” Loki says, pulling Steve out of his thoughts. Steve couldn’t miss the almost adoring way Loki said it, and he was surprised to find he sort of liked it.

“Yeah?”

Loki swallowed hard and locked his gaze on Steve’s. “I know you have no particular reason to allow me sanctuary at your place of living. But nonetheless... I am grateful.” 

“Oh,” Steve said awkwardly.  _ This is probably the strangest, craziest thing that has ever happened to me. And my best friend is Bucky. And boy, was that a rollercoaster of a time.  _ “Um... it’s no problem. I couldn’t really leave you there.”

“Why not?”

Steve blinked, taken aback. Of course Loki would ask a question like that. Like  _ yeah you were bleeding out and barely breathing under my house and I just decided to leave you there.  _ That was never an option. “Because it wouldn’t have been the right thing to do.”

“I am your enemy, am I not? What reason could you have for helping me?”

That was beyond a stupid question, but Steve didn’t really voice that. He thought about the question, genuinely considering it. He could have left Loki, but then what? He would have died, someone else could have found him (someone not necessarily as kind as Steve). There were infinite alternatives to the situation. But... in the end... “I couldn’t leave you there. We may have been enemies in the past, but I don’t really think you’re my enemy now. And no offense, but compared to Thanos, you’re not that horrible.”

Loki couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped past his lips. “I will take that as a compliment,” he said with a small smile, and Steve thinks it might be the most genuine one he’s seen yet. It falls fast though. “Either way, thank you.”

Steve smiled then too. “You’re welcome.”

Loki really was kind of a decent person.

They watched the waves a little longer before heading to bed.

...

In the morning, Steve wasn’t surprised to see Loki up and early with eyes wide open like he hadn’t had any sleep at all. That didn’t dismiss the dark circles under his eyes, however. 

Loki was seated on the couch looking straight forward at a television that was off, his eyes distant. He no longer had the safety of the blanket around him, but he was in sweats that Steve lended him until they could get him some clothes of his own. It was strange to see Loki sitting there in a grey sweat suit, knees drawn up to his chest, his back leaning against the soft pillows behind him. Steve thought he looked younger than he probably was. It was... cute?

“Morning,” he said, trying for a light tone. Loki didn’t jump or flinch so to say, but Steve’s arrival did jostle him a bit out of his thoughts. “Want some breakfast?”

Initially, Steve thought Loki would say no. He usually did. Their mornings here tend to steer toward the routine than it does any unorganized nature. Steve would wake up, Loki would be on the couch or the chair next to it or on the balcony, the captain would offer breakfast, Loki would kindly decline, and they would go on about their day.

However, much to Steve’s surprise, the god nodded. “Yes.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile. It was progress. Loki wasn’t okay. But it was progress. “Alright,” he said, walking towards the kitchen. Loki had stood up, his eyes following Steve. “Do you have a preference?”

Loki made small strides to the kitchen, taking a seat at a barstool at the island overlooking the rest of the beach house. Steve stood on the other side of it, watching him. 

Loki cleared his throat. “What would you recommend? I’m not overly familiar with Midgardian foods.”

Steve made a small smile at the formality of Loki’s vernacular. It was... endearing in a way. “Well, you’ve had eggs. Do you like those?”

Loki only nods.

“How about I make you an omelette? It’s still soft enough for your throat.”

Loki frowned. “What is an omelette?”

“It’s basically egg folded over with other food elements stuffed inside. Like cheese, or meats, or vegetables,” he explained while simultaneously moving to the oven, gesturing at a frying pan. “You cook it with this.”

“Hmm,” Loki hummed. “It sounds interesting.”

“Do you want one? I could just put cheese in yours for now.”

Loki considered, tilting his head. He seemed to be examining Steve in some way, and Steve couldn’t help but squirm a little under the gaze. “Alright,” Loki agreed.

Steve noticed his eyes still looked a little dazed, but this was the most casual conversation the pair have had since Loki’s mysteriously coming back to life. “Great,” he declared, moving to the fridge to get the proper ingredients. Loki was watching curiously, eyes following the captain’s movements. Steve cocked his head to the side. “Do you want to help?”

For a moment, it looked like Loki wanted to flee. But in the end, Loki agreed with a hesitant nod.

Steve helped guide him through making it. He explained the steps one at time. First, beat eggs, water, salt and pepper into a bowl and mix it until it’s blended. Steve let Loki stir it himself. After this, heat some butter into the frying pan and let it coat the bottom, then just add the egg mixture. Steve asked Loki to go get cheese from the fridge (he thought surely Loki knows what cheese looks like) and he did. Steve guided him in spreading the cheese on the egg. When it looked well cooked, Steve folded it for him and slid it onto a plate.

Loki had a sense of pride in his posture, and again Steve thought it was endearing. It was almost therapeutic for both Steve and Loki to do something so mundane in a world filled with death and destruction and mourning. It was probably not the most positive mind set to have, but hey, it’s the truth. 

Steve cruelly wished Bucky were here. 

Steve made his own omelette after, and joined Loki at the island to eat his. Normally, someone would have finished their meal before Steve was done cooking his, but naturally Loki barely even dented in to his. “Is it good,” he asked.

Loki looked up from where he was picking at it. He looked to have taken a few bites at least. “Yes,” he replied, but he sounded a little apologetic. 

Steve considered him for a moment. “If you don’t like it, it’s okay.”

Loki shook his head. “It’s not that. I just... struggle to eat, is all.”

“Is your throat still bothering you? Maybe I could go get some medicine.”

Steve heard him make a noise too close to a scoff. “Undoubtedly your human means of medicine will affect me none at all.”

“Maybe some tea?”

“No.”

“Loki-“

“I’m fine,” Loki bit out, his voice hard. Steve closed his mouth, regarding the god with caution. He didn’t think Loki would attack or anything, but he looked a little wild. However, after a moment, his eyes softened with something close to shame. “My apologies,” he murmured.

Steve looked at him a little closely and saw how white his knuckles were where he was clenching his fork, his other hand fisted against the table. “It’s okay,” he said carefully, and then sighed. “I don’t mean to hover or make you feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

Loki’s head drifted up from where he was staring at his plate with something like sadness. It was a raw look that Steve didn’t think he should be seeing. “You are kind,” Loki announced. “I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. I just... my temper never was... it was never-“

“Controlled,” Steve suggested with a small smile. Loki opened his mouth like he was going to protest, but when he closed it back with an apologetic look, Steve understood. “It’s okay. I get it. I had a friend who didn’t have a very well composed temper either.”

Loki considered that. “Had?”

Steve’s heart twisted a little. “Huh?”

Loki tilted his head. “You  _ had  _ a friend?”

If this was Loki back from New York six years ago, he would think the god was trying to get a rile out of him. But Loki’s eyes held a gentle curiosity. 

Steve hadn’t really mentioned Bucky to him yet. Either because he was protective of his best friend or because it never came up, he wasn’t totally sure. But looking at Loki now, he didn’t really think he needed to obscure anything. “Yeah,” he started, trying to keep his voice even. “His name was Bucky.”

Loki didn’t comment more on the matter.

After breakfast, and Loki did manage to finish the omelette (slow pace as it was), Steve had expressed his need to go to the store for a few groceries that they were short on. Now that there were two people in the house, his resources dwindled faster. 

However, when Steve told Loki he would be gone for about an hour or so, Loki’s face dropped.

“It’s only for about an hour,” he tried, but Loki’s breath hitched. 

He wasn’t particularly sure why being alone made Loki so nervous. Steve understood he’d just experienced a very traumatic circumstance, but he wasn’t sure how the correlation between being literally choked to death and being alone while Steve went out for some essentials was related. However, it was evident the prospect made Loki extremely uncomfortable. 

But Steve knew they were running low on some things that were fundamental for the house: food, soap, toilet paper, detergent. He even wanted to get Loki some clothes of his own while he was at it. 

“Would you rather come with me,” he asked. Loki looked like he really wanted to, but shook his head despite his obvious desire. “Do you mind my asking why?”

Loki swallowed hard, the wild look from breakfast returning over his features. “I would be recognized, most likely. And my magic hasn’t been the same since... since. I can’t cast a glamour over my person.”

“Oh,” Steve realized, frowning. He really hated this. He hated it. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world with his next words, because when he said them this hurt, betrayed look shadowed over Loki’s face that made Steve’s stomach bubble with sympathy and guilt. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I won’t be gone long.”

Steve went to stand in front of him, squeezing his shoulder to convey a sense of safety. “You’re safe here, Loki.”

Loki was looking down at the floor as if ashamed. In the end, however, he nodded and stood there and watched while Steve closed the front door behind him. 

Again, Steve felt like he was abandoning him.

...

It took some time for Loki to come back from his slight dissociation after Steve had left for the store. When Steve came back, Loki was in his room on his bed and curled into a tight ball, his blanket back around him. Steve had wanted to go comfort him in some way, but decided to leave him alone for now. It was kind of his fault. 

He didn’t think Loki was angry with him, so to say, or pouting about something not going his way. Loki was going through a trauma and everyone progresses through their trauma in different ways. Loki’s was to distance himself whenever something happened that sent him back a few steps. Steve still wasn’t sure why leaving him alone did that, but again, trauma didn’t really have any organization or concrete logic to it. 

The next morning, however, Loki seemed better. He came out of his room with his blanket dragging behind him on the floor like a stream. His eyes were still distant, but there was a bit more awareness there. 

Steve was seated on the couch with a warm cup of tea in his hands. He inhaled the steam. “Hey,” he said, setting his tea on the side table before he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Loki stared past Steve’s shoulder. Steve cleated his throat, and Loki blinked before looking at Steve. “You okay?”

Loki blinked two more times and nodded. He moved over to sit on the couch, drawing his knees to his chest and taking the stance he usually does on the couch that is adorably childlike. Steve felt his lips twitch towards a smile. “Breakfast?”

Loki shook his head, and Steve felt his shoulders slump in defeat. Steve sighed and found himself wanting to reach out to touch Loki, to grab his hand and squeeze in it in a comforting gesture. 

He wanted to help him. He wanted Loki to feel better and Steve felt so useless. And he also found he wanted to be the one who did it. Why that was, he didn’t know.

Loki turned to look at him and it was a little sharper of a movement than Steve would like. “Tell me about Thanos.”

Steve flinched back, lips parting in surprise. The god’s voice was hard and sharp. It held a bit of fire, maybe not the loud and confident flame it used to be, but it was still a flame. 

“Wh... What?”

“Tell me about Thanos.”

Steve examined Loki. There was point blank awareness in his eyes, and Steve hadn’t seen that in the entire duration of Loki’s staying here. “What do you mean?”

“What happened? Tell me everything.”

_ Oh,  _ Steve thought ruefully. “Um,” he swallowed hard. “Well... okay.” Loki was watching Steve with his full attention. Steve took in a slow breath and huffed it out. “Thanos had one goal when he sought out the Infinity Stones.”

Loki nodded. “Thanos believed the solution to the universe’s fundamental problem regarding overpopulation was to half it at a random capacity. I’m assuming he succeeded.”

Steve swallowed again. “Yes. With a snap of his fingers.”

Something flashed in Loki’s expression Steve didn’t catch. He thought it might be something like guilt. “Your friend...”

Steve flinched, and hated himself for it. Anger flared towards Loki, but he knew it was unfair. “Yes,” was all he said, and Loki understood. 

Loki bit his lip, taking a controlled breath. “In all of my time knowing Thanos... he only ever had one goal. He wasn’t very big on sharing at the time, you could say, but I put the pieces together. He never thought I was listening.”

Steve frowned, something horrid filling at the pit of his stomach. “In all your time knowing Thanos?”

Loki looked away again, the distant haze filling in his eyes again. Steve thought his pupils looked a little too big. “I assume Bruce Banner passed the knowledge that Thanos sent me to Earth.”

Brows meet together in a deeper frown. “Yes,” Steve said, but it sounded like a question. “Is there a deeper meaning to that?”

Loki blinked slowly. “No,” he answered, voice dull. “I attacked this realm on my own will. It was my choice.”

Steve really doubted that, somehow. But he also suspected the truth was complicated. “Something tells me it wasn’t that simple.”

“It was,” Loki retorted. “Thanos was... simple. As I said he had one goal and would do whatever he could to get people to bend to his will. He tried to bend me. But my will always,  _ always  _ remained my own.”

_ That’s what he made you think _ , Steve thought, but he doesn’t really know does he? He wasn’t there, but judging by the slight haunted look in Loki’s face he had to guess it was complex. 

_ Did he hurt you? _

Steve almost laughed. Of course Thanos hurt him. Loki’s still lingering sore throat just proved that. But... he couldn’t help but wonder... did Loki truly attack this planet on his own choice, or a choice that was planted there in his mind for Thanos to exploit? 

_ He never thought I was listening... _

That didn’t sit well with Steve at all. He doesn’t deny Loki was working on his own choices, but again, it wasn’t that simple. 

Thor had explained a little, Bruce was more closed off, but it was known knowledge that Loki wasn’t completely himself when he was sent to retrieve the Tesseract from Earth. Steve didn’t think he was mind controlled, like Clint was at the time, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Loki was coerced in some way. Looking at him it didn’t seem so impossible. It seemed more likely than he originally thought. 

Loki’s eyes began to droop along with the rest of his body, and Steve wondered if he got any sleep last night. His heart wrenched again. 

Loki’s body was healing. But his mind was getting worse. And Steve didn’t know what to do. 

“Loki,” he said quietly. Loki didn’t react. “Tell me what to do. Tell me how to help.”

Other than Loki closing his eyes, he would think he was so still he was dead. Maybe he really was. “I do not know,” was all Loki said.

Steve watched him a moment longer, and when Loki opened his eyes he hated how resigned they were. “Loki, this may seem like the smallest comfort right now, but it gets better. It won’t be like this forever.”

“I died,” he whispered. “I died and I came back. I’m not... it isn’t...” he sighed, shaking his head. 

Steve swallowed, his stomach roiling with something horrible. “Tell me,” he articulated. “Tell me.”

Loki hesitated with a trembling breath that sounded like it quivered through his entire body. “I do not feel like myself. It’s as if my body has been hollowed out and there’s nothing left behind. Food tastes like ash, sleeping feels pointless, especially if I’m just going to wake screaming every night. I am...” his voice cracked. “I am... afraid. You tell me it won’t always be like this. But I don’t see it going anywhere else. I am not whole.”

“Oh Loki,” Steve exhaled. He wanted to reassure the god in some way, but he didn’t know how. He wanted to tell him it may not seem like it now but it will,  _ it will  _ get better. Coming back from the dead is not something that you can brush off like a small cut or bruise. But he can’t figure out how to tell him any of those things. Instead, he just says, “I’m sorry.”

As much as Steve thought Loki might finally allow tears to fall, he didn’t. It was like he didn’t have any tears left, like he didn’t have  _ anything  _ left.

_ It’s as if my body has been hollowed out there is nothing left behind.  _

Steve really didn’t know what to do.

For now, he had to hope that his presence being here for Loki would be enough. A horrible voice in his head told him he wasn’t. 

_ Doesn’t mean I won’t fight for Loki when he can’t fight for himself.  _

Loki was kind of his responsibility now. Ever since he’d brought Loki into his home and helped him back to health he’d become his responsibility.

He also found he didn’t regret it.


End file.
